


Ballet

by magicaldrarry



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drarry, Fluff, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, One Shot, ballet!Draco
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-20
Updated: 2017-07-20
Packaged: 2018-12-04 18:44:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11561124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicaldrarry/pseuds/magicaldrarry
Summary: Draco has done ballet for fifteen years, and nobody except his mother knows. What happens when Harry Potter watches him dance one day and Draco catches him?Inspired by a text post on tumblr





	Ballet

**Author's Note:**

> i might have made it one word short of 10,000 on purpose...
> 
> find me on tumblr @magicaldrarry

Draco took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Straightening his posture, he relaxed his muscles as much as he could at the same time as staying tall and upright.  _ “Thank god for the Room of Requirement,” _ he thought, glad he had somewhere to be alone. 

His left hand gripped the bar loosely while his other arm was curved out in front of him, fingers perfectly placed and barely curved inwards. Long, lean legs were pressed together, his feet pointed out in a wide angle. An impeccable first position.

Wandlessly and silently, he cast a charm on a magical record player (it played any music you needed) to start new music, and the sound of a piano filled the room. Adagio Sostenuto, Sergey Rachmaninov. Draco let the music flow through his body, taking his limbs with it. He danced around the room, drifting gracefully on his feet.

He knew he needed new ballet shoes. They were getting worn down with all the dancing Draco had been doing to get away from his problems. His mother always told him he couldn’t dance away from issues, but it seemed like it was working at the moment. He had always responded with, “I can try.”

The blond haired boy continued flying around the room, a series of pirouettes, tours en l’air, balançoires, and cabrioles. He danced until the song ended, never opening his eyes. Draco found it worked better like that, he could fully immerse himself in ballet without any distractions. As the room became quiet, Draco assumed a finishing pose and slowly opened his eyes.

He was facing the entryway, and as his eyes focused on the arched doorway in front of him, he heard a soft click, like a closing door. He ignored it, guessing it was just a random old castle noise.

The tall boy padded over to the one chair in the room, catching himself walking toe to heel before he sat down. He frowned. It had been happening frequently, probably because of the increased amount of dance he was pushing into his schedule. At this point, it was well past midnight, and Draco had been dancing for hours. The only reason he was upset about these new habits (both the late nights and the new way of walking) was that it might give hints about his secret. The thing was, no one knew Draco danced, let alone loved doing so, not even Blaise nor Pansy. He doubted his father, who had died in the war, had even known, seeing as he had never paid any attention to Draco’s pastimes while he was alive.

Draco sat down and took off his ballet shoes, setting them in his bag. He pulled a pair of pants and a dark grey jumper over his t-shirt and tights, and slipped on his everyday shoes. Walking out of the Room of Requirement, he quickly checked the hallways to see if anyone was coming. As soon as he deemed them clear, Draco slipped out and hurried back to the eighth year dorms, his legs burning slightly from the brisk pace. It had been the second time that day in which he had snuck out to the Room, and now it was Friday and he had been to the Room a total of twelve times that week.

Draco finally got to the dorms, which were (inconveniently, for him) placed at the other end of the castle. He slipped in just as another figure was, one with black hair. Harry Potter. Although Draco had abandoned his past animosity for the Gryffindor, he avoided him and the two weren’t exactly on friendly terms. Draco held back from entering the common room for a second, letting Harry go in first. The other boy didn’t notice Draco as he walked in.

As Draco quietly entered the common room, he heard the seemingly ever-present yelling and cheering escalate as the Golden Boy walked in, although it seemed louder tonight than usual. The other eighth years must have thrown a party, and with it being so late, Merlin knew how many people were drunk in this room. Not counting the ones upstairs doing ungodly things with each other.

He began to make his way upstairs to bed, legs already tired and practically screaming at the thought of having to climb up the winding staircase. Draco had gotten halfway across the room until a drunken figure approached him and basically fell onto him.  _ “Most likely Blaise or Pansy,”  _ he thought, prying the arms from around his waist and neck. “God, how many…” he groaned. There were more than two arms around him, so it was probably both of his friends who had come to drag him onto the makeshift dance floor. Once he got all the arms off, he started making his way back to the stairs.

“Draco! How about you come back here and have a drink, love?” Pansy exclaimed, grabbing his arm.

Draco looked back. Her lipstick had been rubbed off (he thought he could see a hint of dark crimson smudged on Hermione Granger’s cheek, who was on the outskirts of the mass dancing), and her shirt had been loosened from it’s tucked state it had previously been in.

“Sorry Pans, I’m really not up for it tonight,” Draco said, trying to pull away.

“Come on, Malfoy, loosen up,” he heard Blaise say, who was coming around behind Pansy. Draco thought momentarily about warning her that the dark skinned boy was behind her, but then decided against it, because it would ultimately turn out in his favor if he refrained from notifying her of that information.

Blaise came up behind Pansy and slipped one arm around her waist, resting the other dangerously close to the underside of her breast. The italian began to grind against her and moved the hand up to cup her chest, but was quickly met with Pansy whirling around and slapping him, saying, “Don’t touch me, you fucker!”

Draco chuckled and shook his head.  _ “Something is wrong with them, I swear,”  _ he thought to himself. He knew for a fact that Pansy would wake up in Blaise’s bed tomorrow morning (but no matter what Blaise claimed and how much he would protest, he would never be able to convince Pansy that they did things the night before in that very bed when they most certainly didn’t. “I like my coffee how I like my men, Blaise, and I abhor coffee. I prefer tea,” Pansy would say. Blaise would probably respond by telling her something along the lines about how tea is the opposite of coffee; to that, Pansy would reply with “My point exactly, you arse.”).

He headed up to his room, dragging his exhausted legs up step after step. When he finally reached his room, he collapsed on the bed, only bothering to take his shoes off. He fell asleep practically as soon as his head hit the pillow, and didn’t have to worry about his sleep being interrupted by a roommate due to the odd number of boys who returned for an additional year. So, Draco slept, his head filled with the music of a record player.

*****

As Draco packed up his ballet things after another session of dancing, and started to pull on a sweater, someone in the room sneezed. Draco froze with the sweater halfway on, his arms in the air and the sweater covering his face. Coming back to his senses, he hastily pulled on the sweater and picked up his wand. “Hello?” he called out. A rustle came from by the door, but no one showed. Draco huffed. “I know you’re there,” he said.

Something moved, and then, much to Draco’s surprise, Harry Potter emerged from the shadows. He looked guilty, not enjoying getting caught. “Potter? What are you doing here? How long have you been there?” Draco said, getting worried. The other boy must have seen him dancing.

“I didn’t know you could dance. Well, I knew you could dance, like waltzing and stuff, but I didn’t know you could dance like…” Harry trailed off.

“Like what?” Draco asked sharply.

“Like that,” Harry said simply.

“Yes, well, it’s not like I go around announcing that I do ballet, now do I?” Draco pointed out, getting frustrated.

“Please don’t be mad, I only wanted to see where you were going, and then you got on those weird shoes and I wondered what they were for, so I stayed. I never knew you were going to dance and I’m sorry I invaded you space, but I just couldn’t leave. You looked so calm and graceful and honestly beautiful, Draco, and-”

“Potter, you’re rambling,” Draco said, smirking at the faint blush that dusted the raven haired boy’s cheeks.

“Sorry,” Harry said. “Uhm, can you…” he paused.

“Can I what?” Draco prompted.

“Can you call me Harry? I don’t think our last names are fitting anymore, let alone necessary. It just might be easier, but it’s okay if you don’t want to do that. I can-”

“Harry, you’re rambling again.” Draco let a small smile slip past the corners of his lips before he could help it; Harry was amusing, and frankly, a little cute when he got flustered and started talking too much.

“Oh. I didn’t realize,” Harry said, and the blush that hadn’t gone away got deeper.

“It’s fine. And catching me doing… ballet… that’s okay too. But it’s late now, and I haven’t eaten all day,” Draco said, pulling on his shoes. The sky was dark outside of the tall windows that stretched from the floor to the ceiling. He wasn’t sure how the windows got there and how he could see outside though, he was pretty sure the room wasn’t on an edge of the castle.  _ “I love magic,”  _ he thought to himself.

“Can I come with you? I haven’t eaten at all today either,” Harry said, looking a bit sheepish.

“All day? Does that mean… you followed me here at six in the morning and have been here with me all bloody day?! It’s almost ten at night!” Draco exclaimed.

“That would be correct,” Harry stated. “Can we go now? I’m really hungry.”

“Fine. Kitchens?” Draco asked, heading towards the door.

“Yeah, sounds good,” Harry said, following him. They made their way out and towards the kitchen, stomachs rumbling.

*****

Draco sat in the back of the library, finishing up a potions essay. He always saved his favorite (and easiest) for last. As he finished up the last paragraph, someone sat down across from him, waiting for Draco to acknowledge their presence. Draco glanced up, seeing wire framed emerald eyes. “Yes?” he asked, turning back to his parchment.

“When is the next time you are going to dance?” Harry asked.

“Shh! Me dancing is not your secret to tell, Potter. And why? I danced this morning,” Draco said, frowning.

“I want to watch you again,” Harry stated bluntly.

“And why would you want to do that, Potter?” Draco said slowly, not lifting his eyes to meet the other boy’s.

“Because I liked watching you last time. And what did I say about last names?” Harry huffed.

“I’m not that entertaining, Harry.”

“You are to me. I liked watching you do ballet, Draco. You seem happy when you dance; calm,” the younger boy said.

“That’s because I am. I’m  _ alone _ and enjoying what I’m doing,” Draco retorted. Essay finished, he rolled it up and put it in his bag.

“I know you like being alone. But I just want to watch again,” Harry pushed, and Draco knew the other boy wasn’t going to give in.

“I’ll dance tonight. Nine o’clock. Don’t be late, or I’ll lock you out,” Draco muttered quietly, getting up and starting to walk out of the library.

“Draco?” Harry called after him.

“What, Potter?” Draco replied, exasperated. He looked back. Harry didn’t correct him.

“Thanks,” Harry said, smiling.

“Yeah, yeah, thank me later,” Draco called back as he walked out of the library fighting a smile.

*****

Draco paced the floor of the Room of Requirement, clock ticking closer to nine every second. Part of him hoped Harry would be late and he’d lock the door and wouldn’t have to dance for him, but another part wanted so badly to dance for Harry, because he knew it would make the other boy happy.

Two minutes to nine, Harry rushed through the door. “Sorry, Hermione wanted me to finish that bloody potions essay and I don’t understand anything that goes on in potions.”

“You could’ve asked me about potions, you know. At least you’re not late,” Draco replied from his new spot on the floor, stretching.

“You’d help me with potions?” Harry asked, surprised and excited.

“Sure, whatever,” Draco said. He got up and put on a new pair of pointe shoes. He knew boys usually didn’t do pointe, but he had tried it years ago and had fallen in love with it. The tall boy carried his wand over to the middle of the floor and spelled the music to start. This time it was Swan Lake, by Tchaikovsky. Draco found he liked muggle composers the most, so most days he ended up dancing to music most wizards had never heard.

He assumed his position in the middle of the room, arms up and on the tips of his shoes. Draco loved dancing to Swan Lake, and he had danced to it so many times he had memorized the music. Since the notes were ingrained in his head, he could usually dance to it without choreography he had already set up. He let the music take control, and the tall boy was off, twirling and leaping around the room.

He heard Harry's breath catch when he started to fall gracefully, catching himself just a second before he hit the ground. All part of the dance.    


The lean boy kept going until the music came to a stop, ending with his hands down and one foot behind the other. Draco slowly opened his eyes when he heard the other boy in the room clapping softly. He gave a small smile to Harry, and then promptly fell to the floor to relieve his aching feet.    
  
Harry jumped up and quickly rushed over to Draco. “Are you okay?” he asked worriedly.    
  
“What? Oh, yeah. My feet are tired. All this dancing takes it’s toll,” Draco responded, sprawling out on the floor.    
  
“Do you need me to carry you back to the dorms?” Harry teased, leaning over him.    
  
“That would be bloody fantastic,” Draco sighed, putting an arm over his eyes. A second after, he felt an arm under his knees and another under his own arm and around his back, then he was being lifted into the air. His eyes flew open. “What the fuck?” he started.    
  
“You said you wanted to be carried,” Harry said simply. He tilted his head to Draco's ballet bag and it started floating behind them.    
  
“I meant it at a joke, Potter. I never thought you would actually do it!” Draco protested. He made no move to get out of Harry’s arms, though.    
  
“Well, do you want me to put you down?” Harry said, walking out of the Room.    
  
“No.” Draco rested his head on Harry's chest and closed his eyes, already getting drowsy.    
  
Harry laughed, rubbing his thumb in circles on his shoulder as he carried Draco to the dorms. Draco wondered how Harry could carry him at the same time as rubbing his back. Bloody quidditch workouts. The black haired boy was as strong and as solid as a wall.    
  
Draco managed to drift off on the walk across the school, and woke up as he was being set down on something comfortable. A bed, maybe. His eyes opened briefly and saw the ceiling of his dorm room just as Harry was about to walk away. Draco caught his hand. “Mmm… thanks,” he murmured drowsily.    
  
“Yeah. No problem. Thanks for letting me watch you dance. I meant what I said, you know,” the green eyed boy answered.    
  
“‘Bout what?” His speech was still laden with sleep.   
  
“You being beautiful when you dance,” Harry stated softly.    
  
“Oh.” Draco blushed. He didn't know what else to say. He looked down, fiddling with the blanket Harry had tucked him into. He was still holding a tan hand.    
  
Harry gave him a small, happy smile. “Get some sleep, Draco.”   
  
“Harry,” Draco started.

“Yeah?”

He paused, looking down at their joined hands. “Never mind,” he said, dropping the smaller boy's hand. He didn’t even know what he was going to say. Maybe he just wanted to hear the other boy’s name coming from his mouth.

Harry gave him one last smile and brushed his thumb over Draco’s palm before walking out of the room.

*****

Draco came out of the Room of Requirement a few days after Harry had first asked to watch him dance, pulling his long hair up into a loose, messy bun with a hair tie he kept in his bag. He knew his hair was getting too long and he needed to get it cut, but he hadn’t gotten the chance too. Maybe he would go to Diagon Alley tomorrow, since it was going to be Saturday.

Harry had been coming with Draco to watch him dance every day since the first, but he hadn’t been able to make it today. Something about talking to Granger, but he hadn’t really understood Harry’s mumbling. A part of Draco was disappointed Harry couldn’t come, because he knew deep down he liked dancing for the other boy, but Draco pushed it away.

As he walked down the hall, he say Harry coming the other way. “Hey, Draco…” he trailed off, staring at Draco’s face.

“Hi Harry. Care to tell me why you’re staring at me?” Draco answered.

Harry turned and started walking the way Draco was going, the same way he had come. “Um, it’s just… your hair. I like it up like that. A lot.” Harry blushed.

“What, in a bun? I need to cut it,” Draco said, glancing at the other boy.

“Yes, in a bun, but why would you cut it? It looks good,” Harry said, reaching up and twisting a loose strand around his finger.

“Maybe to you. You need a haircut too, to tame that mess you call hair. And I don’t want to cut it all off, just the ends. To keep it healthy,” Draco said, liking the way it felt when Harry touched his hair.

“Oh. Well anyways, I was wondering… Do you want to go to Hogsmeade on tomorrow? With me?” Harry said, dropping his hand and shoving it in his pocket, looking at the stone floor.

“Saturday? I was going to go to Diagon Alley, actually, to get my hair cut. If you want, you can come too. After all, you need a haircut as well,” Draco said, tucking the strand of hair Harry had been messing with behind his ear.

“Oh. Diagon may sound better than Hogsmeade. Maybe I will come,” the shorter boy said, smiling up at him.

“Sounds good. We’ll leave around nine. I’ll meet you in the Great Hall?” Draco replied.

“Brilliant.” They had reached the common room, and the two boys went their separate ways; Harry to Weasley and Granger by the fire, and Draco to Blaise’s room where Pansy probably also was.

Walking into the dorm room (Pansy was there too, of course), Draco dropped his bag by the door and went over to sit on Blaise’s bed with Pansy, frowning slightly.

“Hi love. What are you sour about?” Pansy asked, glancing up from her book.

“Nothing. Where’s Theo?” Draco said, trying to change the subject. He didn’t really feel like talking about Harry at the moment and Theo was an easy subject change since Theo and Blaise were dorm mates.

“Probably snogging some girl,” Blaise said from his desk. He was drawing something, a hobby he had picked up after the war. It calmed him down and offered a distraction like Draco’s ballet, but Blaise’s talent wasn’t a secret. Everyone knew of it.

“Yes, yes. Now, are you going to spill about whatever has gotten you so worked up?” Pansy said, wringing her hands exasperatedly.

“I’m not worked up. It’s just Harry,” Draco replied, frowning even more when he realised his mistake of calling the other boy by his first name in front of his friends.

“Harry? Now he’s Harry. This means development in what, a friendship? More?” Pansy quirked an eyebrow, turning to face Draco. She had closed her book and set it on the table next to the bed, which meant she was genuinely interested and would ultimately pull some information out of Draco he hadn’t planned on disclosing.

Draco leaned back into the pile of pillows, rubbing his hands over his face. “I don’t know. He invited me to go to Hogsmeade tomorrow, but I was already going to go to Diagon Alley for a haircut. So then, my stupid arse thought it would be a good idea to bloody invite him to come with me!” he said, small waves of anxiety rushing through him already.

“Oh love, what have you gotten yourself into?” Pansy said, rubbing circles on Draco’s back. It reminded him of how Harry did that only a few days ago.

“I don’t know, Pans! Help!” Draco exclaimed, falling dramatically onto his friend and laying his head in her lap.

“Nice hair, Draco,” Blaise commented from behind Pansy. Draco could hear the smirk in his voice.

“Fuck off, prick,” Draco said miserably.

“Well, maybe this little trip will be beneficial,” Pansy announced, getting back to the real issue at hand.

“How?!” Draco asked.

“Potter  _ is  _ in dire need of a haircut,” Pansy said, humor in her words.

“ _ Pansy! _ ” Draco whined. He knew that Pansy knew that he wanted to hear something specific, but Draco himself didn’t even know what he wanted to hear.

“Okay, sorry. Back to business. Do you have any feelings whatsoever for Boy Wonder?”

“Yes. Feelings of awkwardness and possible friendship,” Draco said stubbornly.

“Do you want help or not, you prat?” Pansy said, looking pointedly at Draco.

“Yes. And I don’t know. He’s bloody fit and all, and has a fucking  _ hero  _ complex and he’s overly nice. I mean, he bloody carried me across the castle in his arms because I was  _ tired _ , and I  _ liked  _ it!. Fuck! Bloody hell, shit. Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Draco cried. “I bloody DO have feelings for the bloody Boy Who Lived!”

“Stop fucking cursing!” Pansy yelled over him.

“I can’t! And don’t be a hypocrite, Pans! How would you feel feel if you discovered you had feelings for…” Draco spluttered. “Granger!”

“I’d be bloody fine! She’s hot. We’ve already shagged.” Pansy said calmly.

Draco shot up from his position on her lap. “What?! I thought she was with Weasley! Is she even gay?!”

“Mate, even I knew about that,” Blaise said.

“Shut up, arsehole,” Draco snapped.

“About a week ago, and she’s pansexual, but that’s besides the point. Now that we’ve determined that you have romantic feelings for the Golden Boy, I want to know how these feelings developed.” Pansy sat back to wait for Draco to answer.

Draco froze. “ _ Should I tell them about ballet?”  _ he thought. Not yet, he decided. If Pansy pushed, though, he knew he’d end up telling his friends the secret he had kept for his whole life. “We’ve been… spending more time together,” he told her.

“What do you mean? What were you doing, Draco? Come on, love. You know I need more than that,” Pansy said.

This was it. He couldn’t lie to them, they could tell when he wasn’t telling the truth, or even telling a half truth. “I need to tell you guys something,” he began.

“Have you two already shagged and the trip to Diagon is just a cover to break the news?” Pansy said, eyes wide. “Oh my god, Draco.”

“No, no. I’ve just been… hiding something from everyone for…” Draco frowned in thought. “Fifteen years.” He waited.

“And?” Blaise said.

“What is it?” Pansy prompted.

Draco took a deep breath. “I’ve done ballet since I was a child, and I have never stopped doing it. That’s what I’ve been doing lately and why I’ve been gone. I go to the Room of Requirement to dance.”

“I knew it! There’s no way you could’ve stayed so thin and muscular all these years without it!” Pansy exclaimed.

“That’s gay. It fits you,” Blaise said mockingly.

“Hush, you prick. Just because dear Draco is gay does not mean it defines him,” Pansy retorted, slapping Blaise’s arm.

“Wow, thanks Pans. That seemed like it came from the heart. It was poetic,” Draco said sarcastically.

“I was defending myself there, too.” Pansy turned her nose up. “Besides, Zabini, you’re in no place to mock us of our lovely gay state. You’re only half gay.”

Blaise laughed. “Whatever, love.”

“You all are weird fuckers. I’m going to my room,” Draco said, shaking his head. “Goodnight.” He walked to the door after kissing Pansy’s cheek.

“You’re no less weird than we are, love.” Pansy replied. “I’m off too, Blaisie.” She kissed Blaise’s cheek and stood up, heading after Draco.

The two headed out of Blaise’s dorm, and Pansy walked to Draco’s room, stopping at the door. “You’ll be fine on your date with Potter. Tomorrow will be fun, love. Don’t worry,” she said, squeezing his hand.

“Thanks, Pans,” Draco kissed her cheek once more before pulling back and straightening.

“Of course. Now get some sleep,” she said, ushering him into his room.

As Pansy walked out to the girl’s dormitories, Draco closed the door and headed to his bathroom, turning the shower water on and stripping off his clothes. Staring in the mirror, he pulled his hair tie out and his hair fell down in a curtain around his face. The white blond haired boy shook his head, wondering what he was was getting into.

Draco stepped into the shower, letting the hot water wash over his skin. He didn’t know what he was getting into, that much was clear, but he had a feeling at least part of it would turn out for the best.

*****

“PANSY!” Draco shrieked from inside his closet, desperately throwing clothes out and onto his floor. “GET YOUR ARSE IN HERE AND HELP ME!”

He knew his friend was in the common room, and soon he heard feet stomping up the stairs. Draco also knew that Pansy would not be happy with how he called her  to his room.

“What the hell do you want?” Pansy said in greeting when she entered the dorm.

“I don’t know what to wear!” Draco exclaimed, continuing to rummage through his dresser.

“For your date with Potter? Black skinny jeans, light blue dress shirt, grey jumper, and… dragonhide boots. Anything else?” replied exasperatedly.

“Yes. Do you know where any of those are?” Draco asked, sitting on his bed.

Pansy pulled out her wand and summoned each of the clothing items. “Here you go. Don’t worry, love, everything will be fine.” She kissed his cheek and walked out.

_ “Pansy’s right. There’s nothing to be worried about, it’s just a haircut,”  _ Draco thought. He pulled on his clothes and started walking to the Great Hall.

Harry was already sitting down when Draco got there, with Weasley and Granger. Noticing Draco, he told his friends something and then walked to the blond haired boy.

“Hi,” Harry said. “Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah, just let me grab something to eat,” Draco replied, walking up to the closest table and picking up a muffin and a grapefruit.

“Ugh, you like grapefruit?” Harry asked him, his face scrunching up in disgust.

“Yes, Potter. None of that treacle tart you like,” Draco said, stuffing half of the small muffin in his mouth.

“That was quite refined,” Harry quipped, gesturing at his muffin-filled mouth.

Draco flipped him off. Swallowing his bite, he said, “Sorry. I made appointments and I cannot afford to miss them. You can’t either, with the state of your hair.”

“You made a haircut appointment for me too? You didn’t need to do that, you know. What place did you pick, the most expensive? I just go to a muggle place,” Harry replied, tugging on a lock of his hair.

“Yes, it’s expensive, but you’re the Chosen One. You deserve the best,” Draco said, smiling teasingly.

“Shut up. You of all people should know I hate all those names and attention, what with you stalking me half of the time in our first seven years.”

“Right, it was I was the stalker one. Now hurry up, or I’m leaving you here,” Draco retorted, holding out his arm for apparition. Harry took it, and the two of them disappeared in a swirl of colors.

*****

“I told you your hair would look better,” Draco said triumphantly as the two boys walked out of the salon.

“It’s so short!” Harry complained.

“But you like it.”

Harry sighed. “Yes, I do. Thanks.”

“Hmm. So, lunch? Where to?”

“Actually, I was wondering if I could take you to a muggle place I know of,” Harry said, looking up at Draco uncertainly.

“Is it good?”

“I’d like to think so. A little fancy, but it’s not like we aren’t dressed nicely,” Harry said.

“Okay. Lead the way,” Draco announced.

Harry looked up at the blond boy, smiled, and disapparated.

*****

Harry and Draco arrived back at Hogwarts late afternoon, an hour before dinner. “Thank you, Draco. Honestly. I had a really good time today,” Harry said, stopping in front of the portrait to the eighth year dorms.

“So did I. Maybe we could do this again?” Draco blushed, uncharacteristically nervous.

“I’d like that.” Harry gave him a small smile.

“Okay,” Draco said softly.

Harry gave him one last smile before climbing through the portrait hole. Once he was alone, Draco’s hands flew up to his face and ran through his hair, a huge smile on his face. He couldn’t go into the common room yet, he wouldn’t be able to stay still. So, he resorted to the only other option- dancing.

*****

Draco laid down on the floor of the Room of Requirement, breathing hard. He had no idea what time it was; time tended to slip away when he was dancing. Casting a _tempus_ spell, he groaned and knocked his head against the floor. 12:57. Draco felt dead, like he couldn’t move any of his limbs. He had been dancing for what, almost eight hours? It felt like it had been forever, even though he knew it wasn’t even close to his personal record. Sighing, he dragged himself up and slowly walked to the door. Checking once more to make sure he wasn’t leaving anything, he turned and walked back to the dorms.

When Draco got back to the common room, there was only one light on in the corner, illuminating a sleeping figure. Upon walking further into the room, he saw that the person was Harry, slumped in an armchair with a book draped across his chest. Draco felt heat rising to his cheeks when he noticed the black haired boy’s clothing state. Grey muggle joggers, pulled down to show the elastic band of his… Calvin Klein underwear.  _ “Trust Harry to wear all muggle outfits,”  _ Draco thought. The part that made him blush, though, was the fact that the sleeping boy wasn’t wearing a shirt. His tanned skin was on display for anyone to see, and even though he was slightly hunched over, Draco could see outlines of strong abdominal muscles. Fuck, but Harry was ripped.

Pushing those thoughts out, Draco laid a hand on Harry’s arm and gently squeezed to wake him up. Draco, once again distracted, stared at the contrast between Harry’s skin tone and his own.

“Hmm… what’re you doin’,” Harry sleepily murmured.

“Come on, it’s almost half one. Get up, Harry.” Draco tugged on the boy’s arm, snapping out of his trance.

“Ugh, nooo… Carry me, Draco,” Harry said, his eyes still closed.

“What? No, I can’t.”

“Tryyy,” Harry whined. “I’m too sleepy.”

Draco sighed and bent down, hooking an arm under Harry’s knees and the other under his arms, below his shoulder. Adjusting his grip, he lifted Harry up. Draco took one step before turning back to the chair and dropping the half-asleep boy. “You’re too heavy, Harry. I’m not strong enough to hold you up for even ten seconds,” he said.

“Nooo, Dracooo… then go work out and get some muscles,” Harry protested.

“Okay, I’ll work on that.” Draco chuckled. “Just… come on, Harry. Time for bed. I’ll help you to your room,” The tall boy said softly, holding his hand out.

“Fine,” Harry grumbled, pulling Draco’s arm to get up. Once he was standing, he leaned on Draco heavily, using the other boy to support a good portion of his weight.

The two of them slowly made their way to Harry’s room, Draco practically dragging a very sleepy Harry most of the way there.

Once the door was shut behind them, Draco led Harry over to his bed and had him lay down. “Goodnight, Harry. Sleep well,” Draco said quietly.

“Wait… stay, please? I… I have nightmares, and…” Harry trailed off.

Draco hesitated, only because he wanted to so badly. Wanted to hold Harry and protect him from anything bad, wanted to make him feel happy and protected and needed.

He finally pushed away his doubts and whispered, “Sure, Harry.” Draco went back to the emerald eyed boy’s bedside and sat on the edge of the mattress. Harry blindly grabbed his arm and pulled Draco down next to him. Draco gasped, but gave Harry a small smile and settled down. Harry snuggled into Draco’s chest, resting his head in the crook of Draco’s neck, his hands fisted under his chin and holding onto Draco’s shirt. Draco sighed softly and wrapped his arm around Harry’s body, pulling him close before drifting off to sleep.

*****

Draco woke up to a buzzing sound on the bedside table. His wand, waking him up at six just like every morning. It was then when he noticed the body wrapped around him.  _ “Right,”  _ he remembered.  _ “I’m in Harry’s bed.” _

Draco gingerly untangled himself from the sleeping boy, careful not to wake him. Once he was out of the bed, he conjured some parchment and picked up a stray quill lying on the table.

_ Harry, _

_ I hope you slept well and didn’t have any nightmares. I’m going to the Room of Requirement, but I need some alone time to figure some things out. _

_ Draco _

That was okay, right? He didn’t want to make the fact that he didn’t really want to be around Harry at the moment too harsh, seeing as he was the root of his confusion.

Oh well. There was no way to tell for sure, so Draco set the note under Harry’s wand on the bedside table and went to his room to get ready to dance.

*****

Draco spent the next two hours dancing, pondering (mostly) his feelings for a certain black haired Gryffindor. He liked the boy, probably more than he should. Other than his feelings, he thought about how good and warm it had felt to hold said boy in his arms the previous night.

_ “Gods, he’s taking over my thoughts,” _ Draco said to himself. It was true; he had caught himself thinking about the other boy increasingly over the last few weeks. It was like his previous school years all over again, but this time, he was mildly obsessing over Harry for entirely different reasons.

He was brought out of his daze by his stomach giving a sharp jolt of pain, which happened when he was hungry due to not eating. Sighing, he wandlessly stopped the music and went over to get his things together.

*****

Draco walked into the Great Hall about ten minutes into breakfast. Sitting down in his usual seat between Blaise and Pansy, he told them good morning before grabbing a grapefruit and muffin. He smiled at his choice of meal, thinking of Harry. Speaking of Harry…

When Draco looked up to glance at the green eyed boy sitting with Granger and Weasley at the Gryffindor table, he was met with Harry looking back at him worriedly. Draco frowned, wondering what was wrong, and Harry’s face dropped. Granger said something to him, gave the boy a tight hug, and then Draco watched Harry get up and practically run out of the Great Hall.

Draco had no idea what had happened, but when he glanced back at the Gryffindor table, Hermione was frowning back at him with an expression identical to what Harry’s had been seconds ago.

“Go,” mouthed Hermione, staring straight at Draco. “Go help him.”

Draco nodded and got up. “I need to go do something,” he told his friends.

“Might this ‘something’ have to do with your boyfriend running out of here a minute ago?” Pansy asked, an eyebrow raised.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Draco muttered, picking up his bag.

“Sure, love. Go take care of him,” Pansy said with a smirk.

“Yes, go love and protect your precious Potter,” Blaise teased.

“Fuck off, Zabini. Go snog Theo or Millie, or do whatever you do when you’re not in class,” Draco shot back with a small smile.

“I’m not gay! I would never shag Theo!” Blaise said incredulously.

“No, you’re not gay. You’re bi and everyone knows. And even if it’s  _ not  _ Theo, it’s some other boy,” Pansy said, patting Blaise’s arm.

“It is not!” Blaise protested, throwing his arms out.

“Whatever. I need to go,” Draco said, chuckling a little.

“Good luck, love,” Pansy called after him as he hurried out of the Great Hall.

Draco jogged to the eighth year dorms, throwing open the portrait and taking a quick glance around the common room before going over to the boy’s dorms. Stopping at Harry’s door, he knocked quietly. “Harry? Are you in there?” he asked.

The door opened slowly to reveal a frazzled Harry Potter, worrying his lower lip. “Why… why are you here? Aren’t you mad at me?” he asked.

Draco frowned. “I was- I’m not mad at you. Why would I be?”

“Your note… You said that you didn’t want to see me,” Harry said, also frowning.

“Damn. I was worried this would happen.” Draco cursed. “I think I worded it wrong. I just needed some time to think away from everyone. Not just you.”

“Oh. So we’re okay?” Harry asked, looking up at him.

“Of course,” Draco said with a smile.

Harry sighed in what seemed like relief. “Good, because I need some serious help with this potions essay,” he said, grabbing Draco’s wrist and pulling the taller boy into his room.

*****

Draco ran as fast as he could to history of magic. He was late,  _ so bloody late! _ He had missed breakfast because he had forgotten to set an alarm when he danced so he could know when to go to breakfast. Now, he was slipping into a classroom full of practically asleep students because he was  _ so late!  _ He never made mistakes like this, so what was so different about this morning?

He saw Harry waving him over to his desk, motioning for Draco to join him. He smiled gratefully and slipped onto the bench with Harry.

“Where were you? You missed breakfast,” Harry whispered.

“I forgot to set an alarm when I was dancing,” Draco replied, chuckling and shaking his head.

“Ah. Here,” Harry said, rummaging in his bag and coming up with a grapefruit and a muffin.

Draco smiled. “Mmm, thanks. I’m starving.”

“Yeah, bet you were,” Harry said, laughing. Then, he went back to… drawing, all over his left arm. The inside of his forearm was covered in little doodles, ranging from lily flowers to stag antlers to little snitches.

“You draw?” Draco asked, finishing the last of his grapefruit.

Harry’s head snapped towards him. “Erm, a bit. Just little things, not anything like what Zabini does. I want to get some things tattooed when I go into Diagon sometime,” he said, blushing a little bit.

“Wow, Harry. Those are… amazing. Small and simple, but they’re beautiful,” Draco said, smiling.

“Thanks,” Harry replied, smiling in return.

Draco went back to messing with his quill until he felt something cool and ticklish on the back of his left hand. Looking over, he saw that it was Harry, and Harry was  _ drawing.  _ On his  _ skin. _ Draco’s eyes went wide, and he whispered harshly, “What are you doing?!”

Harry grinned up at him. “Wait a minute, I’m almost done,” he said.

“Ah… fine.” Draco replied, grimacing.

After a few minutes, Harry said, “Done,” and pulled his color thing away. Draco looked at his hand and was startled to see a silver dragon spread across his skin. Broad, elegant wings covered most of his hand, and the body had tiny scales covering it. The eyes, though, were a pop of bright emerald green, standing out against the silver and the white of his skin.

“Merlin, Harry… that…” Draco breathed out.

“Like?” Harry said, biting his lower lip.

Draco looked at Harry. Stared at him, for a second.  _ “The green of the dragon’s eyes is almost identical to the color of Harry’s,”  _ he thought to himself. “Love. I love it, Harry. Thank you.”

Harry’s blush deepened. “You’re welcome. I like drawing on you. I mean, I like it more than drawing on myself, because you skin is so pale, and everything shows up so well, and it’s so soft, and… well, y’know. I just like it,” he said, rambling.

“Thank you,” Draco said again. He looked down at the dragon again, running a finger along the spiked tail. “What are these?”

“The markers? They’re called sharpies,” Harry answered.

“I like them,” Draco stated. “Do you know how long it’ll stay on?”

“Oh, it’ll probably come off if you take a shower or wash your hands a few times. A day, at most,” Harry told him.

Draco frowned. “Damn,” he said.

“Too long? You could probably spell it off,” Harry said.

“What? No! I want it on for longer,” the blond boy said. “I meant it when I said I love it, Harry.”

“Oh. There’s actually a spell or whatever… I made it. It makes the drawing last a week,” Harry said, blushing once again.

“Do it.” Draco held his hand out, and felt a searing pain wash over the dorsal side of his hand. It was over quickly, but he still hissed and rubbed it after. “You didn’t tell me it would hurt!” he whispered harshly to Harry.

“Sorry,” Harry said sheepishly. “I didn’t want you to expect it because expecting it kind of makes it worse.”

“It’s fine. Thank you,” Draco murmured, running a delicate finger over the dragon again.

“Yeah, no problem,” Harry said.

Draco spent the rest of the lesson studying his dragon.

*****

The next week, life went normally. Nothing big happened, and Draco was thankful for the quiet week. Two days after his dragon wore off, Thursday, Draco sat next to Harry in history of magic with a goal to achieve. Ten minutes into class, when the professor was droning on and the vast majority of the class was asleep, Draco nudged Harry and asked, “Did you bring your… sharpies?”

Harry’s face immediately brightened. “Yeah,” he said, and ducked down to dig in his bag.

Draco took a deep breath. It was going to be fine, Harry wouldn’t mind. After all, if he did, he probably wouldn’t be friends with Draco.

“Want your dragon again?” Harry said, bringing Draco out of his thoughts.

“Hmm? Oh, yes. But, in a different place, I think. And… I want something else, too,” Draco answered nervously.

“Okay. I’ll do the dragon first. Same colors?”

“Yeah, inside of my right forearm at the top.” Draco rolled up his sleeve.

“Under your elbow? Cool,” Harry said, getting the correct colors out of his pack of markers.

Draco set his arm up on the table, and brought out his book to read while Harry was working. He didn’t really pay attention to the words, though. He was focused on the feeling of the cool tip of the sharpie against his skin.

It wasn’t long until Harry was done, and Draco felt the spell sear through his skin. He hissed, but when he looked over, the dragon, being even better than the previous one, was worth every single bit of pain.

“It looks even better this time,” Draco commented.

“Yeah, I agree. So, you wanted another?” Harry said, looking up at him.

“Two more, actually. Second… pointe shoes on the outside of my wrist,” Draco said, holding up his right arm again. “But no color. Just the outline.”

Harry bit his lip, then grabbed a quill and did a quick sketch on a stray piece of parchment. “Like this, Draco?” he asked, turning the parchment towards the blond.

“Exactly,” Draco said, smiling.

“Okay,” Harry said, getting a skinny black sharpie out. He sat to work on the small design, not taking long. He was done after a few minutes, saying, “Done,” and releasing Draco’s wrist.

“Perfect. This is exactly what I was envisioning, Harry,” Draco praised.

“Thank you again,” Harry said, blushing. “Now, the third one?” he prompted.

Draco bit his lip and looked down at his lap.  _ “Good thing we’re in the back of the classroom, I have a quick escape if this goes badly,”  _ he thought.

Looking up, he gathered up some courage and took a deep breath. “I want you to draw flowers over my Dark Mark.”

*****

Draco waited for Harry’s response, biting his lip again.  _ “What if he doesn’t take it well? What if he absolutely hates me for asking to do this, and then never talks to me again? What if-”  _ his thoughts were cut off by Harry’s voice.

“Really?” he heard.

Draco’s head snapped up to look at him. “Um, yeah. I mean, you don’t have to do it, if you don’t want to-” he stopped as soon as he felt Harry’s arms around him.

“Of course I’ll do it,” Harry said, voice muffled in Draco’s neck.

“You will?” Draco breathed in a quiet voice.

“I’d love to.” Harry pulled back, his eyes bright.

“Oh Merlin, I thought you’d say no,” Draco said.

“Of course not,” Harry said. “Now, the important part. What kind of flowers do you want?”

Draco had thought about this. He wanted flowers that meant something. So, he pulled out the list he had made the night before.

_ Narcissus and pink carnation - for Mum _

_ White chrysanthemum - loyal love, for friends _

_ Gardenia and blue roses - secret love and desire for the unattainable _

_ Statice - remembrance and success, for Harry _

_ Yellow roses - friendship _

_ Green roses - wishes for a prosperous new life, for starting over. For anyone in the war _

_ One black rose - death and farewell, mourning for the war _

“Wow, you really did research on this,” Harry said.

“Yeah. I charmed it so if you tap the name of the flower with a revealing spell, it’ll show a picture of the flower,” Draco said. He wanted to get this perfect.

“Okay. Do you want it covering your Mark completely, or around it and between the lines?” Harry asked.

“I can’t have it covered completely… I need a reminder that I’ll see every day of my bad choices, so I won’t do anything like that ever again,” Draco said softly.

Harry gave him a small smile. “I’m proud of you, Draco. You know that, right? You’ve become an amazing person; you’ve grown so much,” Harry said quietly.

“Thank you, Harry. You don’t know how much that means to me.” Draco looked up at him with a smile.

Harry wrapped his arms around Draco once more, squeezing him tight. Draco help back, basking in the moment.

Draco pulled away, taking a deep breath. “Okay, Harry. Do it.” he said.

*****

Draco was softly shaken awake from his light sleep he had fallen into while Harry was drawing. “Draco, I’m done. Want to see it?” he heard Harry ask.

“Yes…” he said, blinking awake. He was nervous to look, for some reason. But, when he did look, he felt a tear sliding down his face. Wiping it away, he looked up at Harry. “Thank you so much, Harry. I love it more than I can say.” Draco pulled Harry to his chest, never wanting to let go.

Harry.

Harry, who, even after fighting a personal war for seven years until everyone knew what it was like, didn’t bat an eye at the very mark of his old enemy.

Harry, who was nicer and more compassionate and loving than anybody Draco knew.

Harry, who went as far a befriending Draco, when Draco himself knew that he had done nothing worthy of Harry’s time and devotion.

“Thank you for letting me do this,” Draco heard Harry whisper. “I’m proud of you Draco. I mean it.”

“Thank you, Harry.” Draco murmured back. “Thank you so much.”

*****

Draco stood outside a shop in Diagon Alley, trying to bring himself to walk in and tell the people what he wanted. He stood for many more minutes, even though he knew this is what he wanted most.

When he finally walked in, everything went smoothly. He told an employee what he wanted, and hours later, he was done.

Draco Malfoy walked out of that shop in Diagon Alley with three new tattoos.

*****

When Draco got back to Hogwarts, it was already dinner. He skipped dinner, though, opting for what he needed. Dance.

He danced for hours, well into the night. He danced harder than he ever had before, throwing himself completely into the pirouettes and arabesques. Draco couldn’t think of a time he had put so much emotion into dance. It wasn’t like all those feelings had suddenly appeared.

No, they hadn’t just appeared. They had been growing inside him for a while. All this love, pride, adoration. Guilt. He knew how he had gotten through his days with all these emotions manifesting inside him, too. Harry. It had always been Harry, and now wasn’t any different. 

Draco finally fell to the floor, exhausted. He laid there for a while, before dissolving into laughter. Not just small chuckles, but bouts of laughter that Draco had always thought of as addictive. Everyone joined in once someone started laughing like that.

He was howling with laughter after a few minutes, and it felt good. No, good wasn’t the right word… it felt  _ amazing _ . Letting go of everything…  _ “I should do this more often,”  _ Draco thought.

He finally pulled himself together, unable to keep a wide grin off his face. Draco summoned his dance bag and wand, and walked out of the Room of Requirement. How was it that something so simple made everything so much better?

Draco got back to his dorm at nearly half three in the morning. He flopped into bed carelessly, and was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

*****

Exactly a week after Draco went to Diagon Alley, he was standing in front of Harry’s door about to knock when Harry himself opened the door and almost ran into Draco.

“Draco, hi! I was just going to come and find you!” Harry said, grinning widely.

“Oh, yeah. Um, I was wondering if you wanted to go to Diagon with me. I’m going to the quidditch shop,” Draco said. His hands were clasped behind his back, and he rubbed his fingers nervously.

“Funny. I was going to ask if you wanted to go to George’s shop. So in that case, yes, I’ll come with you. I want a new practice snitch anyway,” Harry said brightly.

“Good. Um, leave now?” Draco asked, some of his nerves going away.

“Sure,” Harry replied. The two of them started walking to the courtyard, where a good portion of the student body was getting ready to leave, whether it was to Diagon Alley or to Hogsmeade. Harry and Draco wove through the mass of people, finally getting out of the crowd. “Ready?” Harry asked, holding his arm out for apparition.

“Yep,” Draco replied. He grasped Harry’s arm, and they disappeared with a zip.

*****

They landed in Diagon a second later, and Draco had to catch Harry before he toppled over. This didn’t work, because Harry ended up pulling Draco down with him. They started laughing, Draco draped across Harry. Draco pulled himself off of the other boy, smiling in adoration when they calmed town. Harry looked over at him, and their eyes met.

Harry broke the eye contact, smiling and biting his lip shyly, looking down at his lap. Draco’s smile widened at the blush, and he stood up, offering a hand to help Harry. Harry took it and grinned, not letting go. “Let’s go!” he said happily, pulling Draco into the store.

Draco allowed himself to be dragged into the store, watching Harry let go of his hand and be immediately drawn to the rack of newly released brooms.

Draco went over to the section of jerseys, looking through them before picking a few out. He walked over to pay, but was pulled away from the register when Harry shrieked, “Draco!”

He hurried over to Harry, worried that something was wrong. “What? Is something wrong?” he asked.

“No, look! What have they done?” Harry said, his voice high.

Draco looked at what harry was pointing to. “A Harry Potter figurine playing quidditch,” he said, laughing. “Oh yes, what  _ have _ they done?”

“Who would want that?” Harry asked him. “It doesn’t even look like me!”

“I have no idea,” Draco said, picking up one of the figurines. “Why anyone  _ wouldn’t  _ want one of these,” he finished. He shot a grin to Harry over his shoulder as he walked to the register.

“ _ You’re _ getting one?!” Harry shrieked. “ _ Draco!” _

Draco chuckled as he put mini Harry on the table and paid for everything, including Harry’s forgotten practice snitch. “Let’s go, Harry,” he called over to the boy who was, once again, looking at the brooms. Draco walked out, Harry trailing behind him.

“Whyyyy,” Harry whined, hooking an arm around Draco’s bent elbow. “You’re gonna tease me about that forever now.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Harry dear. I just picked up some jerseys, that’s all,” Draco said, feigning ignorance and innocence. He looked over at Harry and smiled down at him. Harry groaned let his head fall against Draco’s shoulder and they walked. Draco laughed and slipped his arm out of Harry’s grasp so he could intertwine their fingers. Harry blushed and squeezed the grey eyed boy’s hand.

They walked around Diagon Alley for the rest of the day, talking and laughing together. They basked in each other’s presence for hours, just being happy together.

When it started getting dark, they found a muggle park with a lake to watch the sun set. Draco sat under a tree, leaning against the trunk, while Harry laid down on the grass and curled up with his head on Draco’s thigh. Draco slowly threaded his fingers through Harry’s hair, enjoying the moment. He set an alarm to alert them when they needed to be back at Hogwarts, and drifted off, one hand holding Harry’s and the other in his hair.

*****

A few days after Harry and Draco’s second trip to Diagon, they sat in the library together, studying. The two boys had been spending almost all of their time together, and neither of them had a problem with that.

Draco was finishing an essay when Harry said, “Have you been dancing?”

Draco startled. Harry’s question had come out of nowhere, but Draco could understand why he had asked. “A little. Not as much as I’d like to be. Why?”  he replied.

“I wanna watch you again,” Harry stated bluntly.

“We could go now, if you want. I’m done with my essay,” Draco suggested, putting the essay into his bag.

“Really? Let’s go, then,” Harry said, grinning widely. He stuffed his parchments into his own bag and stood up.

Draco chuckled. “Okay. We have to go by the dorms, though, for my stuff,” he said.

“Alright,” Harry responded. He started walking out, looking back to make sure Draco was coming with him.

“Don’t worry, I’m coming too. No need to check,” Draco said, laughing.

Harry blushed. “I know,” he said when Draco caught up with him. The two walked out of the library and stopped at the eighth year dorms before going to the Room of Requirement.

As Draco was putting his ballet shoes on, Harry asked, “How do you even do all your dance things? Like, how do you learn all of the moves and remember them?”

Draco looked up, surprised at his question. “I started young, and I took a ton of lessons before Hogwarts. Then, when I got to Hogwarts, I went home as often as I could to take more lessons. I also never stopped practicing,” he said. Then, he got an idea. “Want me to teach you some stuff?”

Harry burst out laughing. “Really? I’m the clumsiest person ever.”

“Well, even if you totally stink, it’d be loads of fun. Come on, I’ll show you the positions first,” Draco said persuasively.

“Really?” Harry asked, standing up.

Draco grinned. “Yeah,” he said, holding his hand out.

They spent the next few hours laughing and falling and dancing. Harry was clumsy and wouldn’t ever want to take an actual lesson, but it was time well spent anyway. The thing Draco loved most about spending time with Harry was that they fit so well together. More than anyone would think, considering their history.

When Harry finally got too tired to go on, the two boys walked back to the dorms, making fun of Harry’s dancing the whole way. They got into the common room and immediately toppled onto the couch, Draco sprawled in a corner and Harry laying halfway on top of the taller boy.

*****

It was in the library when the next big thing happened. Draco was reading, and Harry was drawing. It had been a week and a half after Draco had gotten the tattoos, so when he turned to doodle on Draco’s arm, he expected the dragon to be gone.

“Draco, did you put another charm on the drawings? To make them stay longer?” Harry asked, confused.

Draco turned and heat immediately flooded his face. “No, I didn’t. Why don’t you try and take the drawings off, Harry?” he said softly, looking into Harry’s green eyes.

“Erm, okay,” Harry said. He tried a cleaning charm first, and when that didn’t work, he tried others. Almost panicking, he looked up to Draco. “I- I can’t! They won’t come off, Draco. I don’t know what happened. I’m sorry-”

Draco cut him off. “I didn’t want them off, Harry, so I went to Diagon…” he trailed off. Draco pulled up his left sleeve. “I wanted them to stay on forever.”

Harry took a sharp breath. “Draco… Did you…”

“Yeah,” he whispered. “I tattooed your drawings.” Draco looked at Harry, trying to figure out what he was feeling, but was unable to.

Harry slowly looked up at him before something flashed in his eyes. Before Draco could say anything, Harry’s lips were on his.

Draco kissed him back. When he pulled away, he looked Harry straight in his eyes and whispered, “I love you, Harry. That’s why I did it.”

Harry gasped. “Oh my god, Draco,” he said quietly.

“You don’t have to say-” Draco started.

“No, Draco. I do have to say it. I… I’ve loved you for a while,” Harry said, smiling. “I love you too, Draco Malfoy.”

Draco smiled back and kissed Harry again before he said, “Thank you for everything, Harry. I can’t tell you how much you mean to me.”

Harry kissed him back, thinking about how happy he was that he had watched Draco dance that first day.

 

_ fin  _

**Author's Note:**

> kudos and comments are love!
> 
> find me on tumblr @magicaldrarry


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